The Housemaid's Secret (The Housemaid, #2)

by Freida McFadden

It all started with a simple cleaning job. And now it might end with my blood being mopped off the cabin floor.

I have made an incredibly bad judgment call. I have underestimated an extremely dangerous person. And now I will pay the ultimate price.

It seems somewhat contradictory that somebody who has eight different kinds of moisturizer in her bathroom also owns a dehydrator, but who am I to judge?

“This is so unfair!” Amber cries. “I breastfed her for over a week! Isn’t that worth anything?”

Because for a while, the cleaning jobs I took weren’t exactly cleaning only. I used to do another service for several of the families I cleaned for. But I don’t do that anymore. I haven’t in years.

I’ve gotten involved with my employer only one time before, and I will never, ever go down that road again. I’d rather yank my own tooth out with a pair of pliers.

“This,” he says, “is the bystander effect. It’s a social psychology phenomenon in which individuals are less likely to offer help to a victim when there are other people present.”

My last boyfriend was the one who convinced me to follow the career path to social work—so I could help people in need while staying within the confines of the law. You need to help everyone, Millie. It is what I love about you. He really understood me. Unfortunately, he’s not around anymore.

I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about that apartment that makes me uneasy.

“Maybe she’s got a little green ribbon around her neck, and if someone unties it, her head will fall off?”